Tag Archives: death angel

Rebekah and Death, Smoke Break

The death angel said hello,

tapping on my car’s window.

She also bummed a smoke,

and of you and me she spoke.

A chain book store, cold night.

She said maybe it was still right

to dream of you, better than

the lingering rage at a Jesus Man.

Thin, gold rim glasses, black hair.

Rebekah you have a halo to despair.

You have a smile I made an a prize.

A dirty needle of greed, no surprise.

The death angel makes a joke rhyme.

Her cold, soft hands inspire my crime.

The night is endless, for you I ache, empty.

Walking on the highway, you just tempt me.


Collecting Her Winnings

The gunshots stopped hours ago.

The fire alarm is silent now.

The sickly, angry florescent lights

shine on into the dark, cold spring night.

The Death Angel collected her winnings,

the souls to take to Charon and to Hades.

The bodies still, killed and killers,

blood innocent and blood profane

mix in the flat, grey carpets and tiles

and the well kept grass out front.

They all sleep together this night,

in silence and quiet, excruciating peace.

The wind from the high mountains

is silent in it’s passage through the town.

The tall grasses on the edge of suburbs

bow dumbly, like so many prayers of strangers.

Tears are shed, so much loss, so much waste.

The dead sleep, but the living dream.